Nuremberg (NaPoWriMo #29)

A window, sometimes, is a
Memory.
Glass shattered
Scattered
Recovered
Reborn.

Time, is infinite in this place.
Then:
Fünf Minuten, gnädige Frau.”

Yet the same sun illuminates the stains
using different light.
The same moon reflects through the stains
using different light.

Who says time is linear?

How is the light made?
Where does it go?

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